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Poem

In the dance of bees and flight of birds,
In flocks dancing high aloft in the sky,
lies the collective wisdom of a crowd of things,
that have, so-called swarm consciousness it seems.

But, there's no conductor or leader to guide the intricate ballet,
No single mind orchestrates the dance,
No single purpose drives the collective fray,
As the swarm twists and swirls, hither and thither they go
In a wondrous dynamic coordinated display,
That creates a harmonic crescendo performance, only swarms know.

When one outside member of the flock randomly
feels the urge to divert its path
all its nearby neighbors follow suit
Each member is aligned to the those immediately close by, 
left and right, front and back, 
all around them, lying close in formation.
So one twist, turns another, and another, and another.
One twirl, curls and swirls the mob in unison,
as all others follow suit.
So it's one for all, it's all for one, it's all in, in the show.

The swarm's intelligence is simply
driven by the birds, bees, fish, bugs and gnats
urge is stay, with togetherness in a crowd
to swarm and whoop it up,
in joyous flight,
Joie de vivre!

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